No feelings involved...right?
Prologue and Part 1
Warnings❗: Implied baby trapping, dubious consent. It all happens at the end.
If their current predicament could be resumed in one sentence, it'll sound like a mother's voice saying "I told you so".
They didn't plan it. It all started with a small mishap, a consequence of their exhaustion and the amount of issues going on in their personal lives. Then the mishap repeated itself, and then they decided to turn it into a game for their own pleasure, no strings attached to her. Then the game grew beyond their control and became a mountain of lies, too big to seize them.
Jisung first met her through a friend of his, and although he found her beautiful then, she didn't catch his attention beyond that. They met frecuently, since they both ran in the same circle of friends, and after one night being left alone by their drunk friends, they spent the time talking and turned out they had more in common that he thought. They clicked, in a way it's hard to explain, but just felt like he knew her since forever. They went from mere acquaintances to suddenly having her name appear at the top of his contact list along with Minho's.
Minho met her through his boyfriend, of course. He first saw her when Jisung brought her home to hang out, without even warning him about it. Their introduction was pretty formal, quick. They shook hands, made some small talk and Jisung inmediatly stole her attention again. Minho wasn't interested in befriending her and viceversa, but Jisung was their common point and she eventually became a regular presence in their apartment, so they really had no option but get along. Forced proximity and all.
Jisung has always known a lot of people, plenty of familiar faces that tend to flock towards him wherever he goes, but few of them can say they truly know him. Jisung cracks jokes, plays long with them, but rarely speaks about himself. He keeps a careful, calculated distance, because he knows that despite all those smiles and compliments, they only see the surface, what they want to see, and don't care about the rest. Which it's okay, it comes with the job, and this facade actually helps to keep undesirable people away without being rude. But she...she's different. From the moment she spoke to him and he listened, he found there was more to her than what she showed. Like him, she never allowed people to see beyond the surface, simply letting them believe the version they liked to spare herself the headaches. She understood him. And for the first time in years, Jisung felt a genuine connection to someone besides Minho.
The funny thing is that they don't talk that much, outside those events where the whole group meets and they stick together to not get bored. And when they get to talk, it's mostly about stuff only they know and deep, phylosophical converstations where they discuss the meanings of life. Maybe, if he's in a certain mood, he complains about a recent argument with Minho and asks for advice, but that's not the norm with them. When he brings her home is to get drunk over petty drama and gossip, without the others. They just fall back in the comfortability of a quiet friendship where no small talks were needed and they could simply let go of their masks.
Things between Minho and her weren't ideal at first. The few times they interacted was when she was at their flat, usually drunk and leaving a mess, and he got mad at it. He could look past it when it was Jisung, but having a stranger doing it was something else. He made sure of letting her know after the drunk haze, barely holding back the bite in his words. He expected her to get offended or feel embarrassed, but no. She never showed an ounce of shame, instead replying him with the same snarky tones, and sometimes that small lopsided grin of hers that made his blood boil. But what started as mostly petty arguments and cold greetings turned into a sense of complicity when they realized their humour was similar and they both acted like Jisung's babysitters more often than not.
Minho is used to be misunderstood. His resting bitch face, his brutal honesty, his reserved demeanour and that perpetual indifference in his face that rarely expressed emotions. People were quick to form opinions about him and not all were good. He was considered cold, arrogant, a snob that didn't like to mingle with those he saw "beneath him", you get it. Most wondered how someone so sweet and cheerful as Jisung could fall for him. It's okay for Minho, he doesn't see the point in caring for what strangers may think. The people he loves know him for who he is and that's enough. Then she came, all carefree and playful and open-minded. Jisung only spoke good things about her, but Minho knew his boy could be biased. Until they started talking and he found out she was truly different. She wasn't intimidated by him, even though he pulled the worst of him sometimes with her around, but she never reacted on it. She was quick to stand up against him, all prideful and confident. And her lack of respect felt like a wheeze of fresh air. After being constantly misjudged, it felt nice to have someone apart from Jisung that made an effort to see through his facade.
Before they noticed it, she became a constant in their lives. Even if they didn't meet often, even if the phone calls sometimes got short, she was present and they felt it. Whenever they needed a favour, she was the safest option. When something juicy happened, she was the first person they called. Even when their fights got brutal and they had no one to seek advice from, her door appeared in front of their eyes.
She never turned down, although her complaints were very much heard. She acted as a bridge between them both when they refused to take the initiative, pushing them to apologise and communicate their problems and feelings. Minho was stubborn, but Jisung could easily win him at times, and persuade them to move past it was a pain. Nevertheless, she did it every single time, to the point the walls of her house and the natural scent that filled it became so familiar to them.
They genuinely don't know when things started to change. They talked it before and both agreed she was beautiful, easy to the eyes, but nothing more. Sure, she was a vital part of their lives now but that's all they wanted her to be. At least that's what they told themselves until that night behind that club, when they tasted her for the first time and found the missing piece they had been bothering them for so long. That annoying empty space in their sex life that have appeared coincidentally shortly after meeting her..
Of course, things couldn't be the same after that mindblowing experience, not like they wanted it to either. They planned the whole affair while she slept in their arms, dead to the world. It was easy to convince her, with her body still vibrating by the last events and her mind still waking up. Granted that wasn't exactly correct from their parts, but they were slightly desperate and the idea of letting her go after that sounded awfully wrong.
And so that was the start of their downfall.
Looking back, they asked for it. At first it was all very natural. They were still friends but now they also fucked sometimes. She was open to every kink and preference of theirs, and she also introduced them to her own tastes. No commitment, no explanations expected or needed. But when their encounters became more often it got harder to stay away from her, they had her sign an NDA to continue. Which was..okay, not something they accounted for but it wasn't necessarily a problem.
No, the problems started when their feelings began to get in the way of the commitment-free arrangement they wanted.
Their doll was a gorgeous creature, a delightful sight for sore eyes, and they knew it. She was like this when they met her and they had no problem with it, Jisung even admired it and made jokes about it, about how ridiculous easy those idiots fell for her charms, scrambling on their feet to get an ounce of her attention. But at some point, seeing such scenes evoked less amusement and more disgust. And following disgust, there was something else. Something twisted and painful and deadly that climbed to their throats when another worthless scum tried his luck with her. Minho could heard this tempting voice in his head telling him to rip their guts out and Jisung imagined a number of creative scenarios where he taught that bastard a lesson.
Sometimes, those voices told them to grab their precious doll and drag her away from those dirty hands, keep her near where they couldn't lose her, which was weird because she meant nothing to them. Just a close acquaintance they casually fucked from time to time very often. And yet...
These sudden, strange emotions were translated in their bed.
The sex with her was always rough and fast, and the only aftercare that ocurred was sharing a smoke in bed over some small talk. But suddenly, it wasn't enough. Their usual routine felt short, uncomplete, unsatisfying. The mouths started to trace her face, her body, the marks they left on her. Their movements turned slower, more gentle, more precise. They wanted to see how it was when she burst in pleasure, when she gave herself up entirely in their arms. They kissed, caressed, worshipped the entirety of her skin, and they whispered words of praise in her ears for the duration of it. And when it was done, they needed wanted her close, lulling her into sleep as their arms trapped her against them.
"You're doing so, so well, doll. Can you give us one more, please? You look lovely like this."
"Look at you, already crying and shaking. Shh, it's okay, love, we got you. Leave it to us, okay'"
But when they couldn't stand that twisted feeling in their guts, after seeing some other clown trying to steal her away, both men turned animalistic on her. They were all confused at this change, and the two of them couldn't explain where did it came from. They just felt the urgent need to cover her in bites, scratches and hickeys, in every place where those undeserving eyes feasted upon. ¿How dare those assholes? ¿Didn't they know she was with them? ¿Had they no shame? ¿Did they really think they stood a chance?
"That's it, keep looking at us, slut. That's where your eyes should always be. ¿What the fuck were you thinking, uh?"
"¿You wanted him to fuck you too? Is that it? You greedy whore. Clearly we need to fuck you more. We'll make sure you can't even talk or walk without our help."
And it didn't end just there. They started to bring her to their dates, inviting her everywhere they went, giving her their clothes. They had love-hate feelings towards her revealing dresses, because as much as they enjoyed the view, they hated seeing others do the same. She became part of their routine, outside the sex part. She was always there. And as time passed, it felt like she had been there since the beginning. They hardly remembered how things were before she came.
But they kept lying to themselves, lying to everyone. This wasn't anything. They could stop whenever they wanted to. There no other feelings involved. Of course not.
And things finally went downhill when someone asked them:
"So, that girl that's always with you two, what's the deal with her? Is there something serious going on? Because you have to introduce her to us, then."
That question struck them. Brutally.
They never thought too much about it. Things with her just...happened naturally, and they barely noticed it. They simply followed their instincts at the time, not realizing the weight those actions could hold. ¿What was the deal with her, truly? Granted, she was more than just a quick fuck, but still. And what was up with them? Why the fuck did they want to meet her? She was perfectly fine where she was.
At the end of the day, the three of them moved in different worlds. There were things about themselves they couldn't tell her, things she would never understand. Maybe that was better, they thought. To keep her away from that circus of drama and lies and dirty secrets they were part of. She didn't belong there. And to keep her far away from idiots butting their noses where they shouldn't.
So they quickly defused the situation. She was just an acquaintance, they didn't really know her, yeah. They already had each other, it had always been just each other. She meant nothing.
If she did, where did that leave them?
¿Were they supposed to know someone was going to post their answer on social media? Were they supposed to know she would see it and demand explanations too?
Yes
They never saw her so angry, so emotional. She was bursting in anger and sadness and dissapointment, and they could both feel how their hearts stopped at the sight. It didn't feel right.
When she started to speak, they sort of panicked. They couldn't control the situation this time, they couldn't control her, and they didn't have proper answers for it. At least, not the kind of answers that would help them.
Most of all, they were confused. As she confronted them with facts, about how their strange behaviour with her and their motivations, they were forced to acknowledge the reality of everything.
That she meant more than they thought. Way more than they wanted her to. It was a liability. A problem. An unexpected turn of events they weren't prepared for.
And because they weren't prepared, they simply said the words that sounded logical at the moment. Cold statements of what they all knew, of what they agreed on the beginning. They didn't truly mean it, as they would realize later, but they felt cornered. And at the moment, the only strenght they could rely on was their pride.
They foolishly thought she would stay after that. That she would see their point of view and calm down.
As expected, she didn't. When it fell on them the terrible error they made, it was late. She left the place. Emptied it of whatever part of her and blocked them from her life.
And as expected, the aftermath was fucking disastrous.
Being deprived so suddenly from her presence after getting used to have her near everyday was hellish. No more calls, no more dates, no more lazy afternoons in the couch. She was gone, leaving a gaping hole in their lives that they couldn't fill, no matter how much they tried. And god knows they did.
No vice or person could replace the feelings she invoked in them.
They turned down invitations, calls of friends, choosing to stay at home and just hang out by themselves. Staying at home too long drove them insane, but going out wasn't much better. She was everywhere. In the streets, in the shops, in the people. It was a nightmare.
When a close friend of theirs invited them to the opening of club, they only accepted in hopes for a distraction, and to keep appareances a bit. But the cold, boring night inmediately acquired a brilliant colour when they saw her.
More beautiful than ever, with her pretty dress and carefully done make-up. Her damned smile brightened the whole club and, for a moment, they felt in peace. Like nothing changed.
Until they saw she wasn't alone. Her warm arms, who used to be held by them, were now occupied by other men. Some they didn't know. A pair of strangers taking their rightful places, and she just laughed and danced with them like it was normal.
They spent the whole night like that, watching her and brooding, with that familiar green boiling in their stomach. She looked gorgeous, out of this world, and it wasn't fucking fair. That should be them. She should have been with them, filling their ears with her cute laugh and letting them wrap their arms over her.
Deep down, they knew they fucked up. It was solely their fault. They had their chance to make her stay, to trap her, and they messed up. ¿Why did things have to be this way? Why did they have to realize the size of their mistake in a moment of jealousy? It was stupid.
When they saw her walking outside alone, they exchanged a glance and they knew it.
They made several mistakes, but they learnt from them. Having her hating them was better than not having her at all, so they followed.
It was so easy to fall back into routine. She was already weakened by their presence, and it was the same for them too. Some yelling here and there, insults being thrown back and forth, a bit of fighting, but they ended up right where they wanted: Locked bathroom, against a wall, and the music covering their moans.
They didn't stop until she was bursting with their cum, pushing it right back inside where a drop ran down her legs. Until there wasn't a single trace of skin unmarked. Until she couldn't fucking walk without their help.
And when few weeks later, she showed up in their apartment with three positive tests, they pretended to be shocked and made her move in with them.
They could already see the picture she would make. It was going to be perfect.
(i had this shit collecting dust in my drafts for a millenia and today i had a strange burst of inspiration to finish it. sorry for the waiting to those who asked for this part)
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